


trouble will surround you

by habitualwords



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Soonyoung adores chansol, Soonyoung internalizes a lot, Wonwoo finally gets his space wish fulfilled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 22:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11091519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habitualwords/pseuds/habitualwords
Summary: And it’s like everything slides into place, his brain playing a loop of Wonwoo,Wonwoo, Wonwoo; across different universes, in this one, inpast, infuture. A lifetime with Wonwoo stretches out in front of him and behind him, and finally, Soonyoung feels grounded.





	trouble will surround you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Dearest Annie, I took the "in every universe" prompt and went. Very wild with it. I'm sorry that I couldn't express my thoughts better, between completely restructuring my fic two weeks before the original deadline and beginning an especially demanding semester at school, this fic ended up... like this? I may revisit and rework it, but for now, I hope you enjoy this. As it is, I'm _very_ late with it. To soonwoonet, many thanks for being loving and supportive through the entire process. To Salma/[maeumso](http://archiveofourown.org/users/maeumso/), thank you so very much for betaing this. It was the first time I trusted anyone else to beta for me, and you made the experience so nice. <3 Writing this, on the other hand, was a trip through space, both literal and figurative. A playlist for this can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/12166662074/playlist/1nRkgwXQZMex4ryxTv8HrN)! Soonyoung's appearance was also partially influenced by this [artwork](https://twitter.com/blucloud_san/status/860144820181909504). Little to no background knowledge on Star Trek is required for this but I will leave you with this. Yorktown is starbase built in deep space. Starfleet is a service maintained by the United Federation of Planets as the principal means for conducting deep-space exploration, research, defense, peacekeeping, and diplomacy. The Klingon race, on the other hand, are recurring antagonists within the Star Trek universe. There are also some references to planets/settings within Guardians of the Galaxy, but those are minor.

He exhales shakily, fingers moving over the control panel of the ship. Suspended in space like a Christmas bauble, Yorktown looms up in front of the ship viewfinder. Soonyoung remembers the first few times he'd visited Yorktown, and how he'd been impressed by the way it was built, twisted intricately within itself to create an entire living system for the many races who were part of the Federation.

 

Of course, the first few times he visited Yorktown, he wasn't smuggling prohibited alcohol and several different strains of Terran weed. There were also other things, things he ignored simply because it was easier than acknowledging what he was transporting. All of it enough to have Soonyoung taken to trial, and definitely enough to have him convicted.

 

"This is Yorktown to  _ Hurricane _ , requesting clearance code.”

 

“Clearance code Alpha-Foxtrot-Niner-Two,” Soonyoung says clearly, glancing at the numbers written on his palm for confirmation.

 

“Cleared for landing,  _ Hurricane _ . Welcome to Yorktown.” The controller says.

 

Soonyoung breaks out into a huge grin, guiding the ship to one of the open ports. Now that he’d gotten past the control towers, all he needed to pass was the customs check. And custom checks were no problem to him, having spent a good portion of his adult life stowing away illegal substances in hard-to-find nooks and crannies of the  _ Hurricane _ . Only someone who knew the ship as well as he did would be able to find his stowaways at first glance, and custom officers, the  _ tired _ , underpaid people they were, sure as hell weren’t going to find anything wrong.

 

He’s unsurprised when the customs check goes well and he’s allowed to park in Chan’s hangar, finally relaxing in his seat. The only thing that had been confiscated was an errant lightsaber that had rolled out from its hiding place, but it wasn’t anything that demanded more attention. In fact, the officers checking the ship had simply let him off with a warning. Soonyoung was aware Yorktown was very much understaffed still, and only in the third stage of operation, but he was unused to Starfleet being so … _ lax _ .

 

People must think he’s a fool when they see him wheeling three suitcases into a transporter pad but he’s willing to look foolish for a few moments. Soonyoung activates his transporter pad and resigns himself to the experience. Hundreds of tiny shocks run through his body, felt even more acutely because of his heightened senses, body tearing itself into millions of tiny particles and then stitching itself back together.

 

On his home planet, if you wanted to get somewhere, you _ ran _ . The grass and dirt under your bare feet, sunlight-dappled green falling on your face. Modern transportation sure changes things, makes it faster, but to Soonyoung, every experience leaves him feeling as disorientated as the last.

 

Lee Chan had been his packmate when they were on Aclillon, his home planet, and for some time, they’d plundered the galaxy. It was possible plundered was too strong a word, but Chan had  _ definitely _ been Soonyoung’s partner in crime, by his side with protesting whines and boisterous laughter. Steady hands and a focused gaze, both his best friend and little brother. The store he runs now looks like a nondescript antiques store, his apartment situated right above it but Soonyoung knows there's more to it than meets the eye, even if Chan did actually trade in antiques on the side.

 

A soft tinkling of bells accompanies the door swinging open, followed by Chan’s surprised shout from somewhere deep within the store. He must have forgotten Soonyoung was coming, and as Soonyoung inhales the air of the store, he feels comfort seep into his bones, like climbing into a bed with freshly dried sheets.

 

“Soonyoung _ hyung _ !” Chan shouts excitedly the moment he sees him, almost knocking over some of the objects on his way to greet Soonyoung.

 

The minute Chan has his arms around Soonyoung, and his face buried in the crook of Soonyoung’s shoulder, the anxiety seeps out of his body. Chan  _ smells _ like home, _ feels _ like home, in so many ways _ is _ home. There isn’t a past, present or future when Chan isn’t by his side, in this universe or another.

 

“I brought the stuff,” Soonyoung gestures at the bags behind him.

 

“You also got new tattoos,” Chan remarks, glancing at the thin bands of Cyrrian symbols between his second knuckle and the base of his fingers. “Bring the stuff to the store room.”

 

He shrugs off his saber fur coat, wheeling two of the cases to the backroom as Chan flips the sign of the store, bringing the remaining case with him. Soonyoung’s perched on the counter as Chan inspects the shipment he's brought in. He knows that it's highly unlikely for anything to be wrong with it. He was, without a doubt, the best smuggler in the Alpha Quadrant. His only competition was light years away, Han Solo in the Delta Quadrant. You see, every smuggler had their own trade secrets. His secret? It's easy to get past Federation law if you're part of the Federation's _ past _ .

 

"You should be more careful, hyung." Chan hums, satisfied with the inventory.

 

"Why would I be careful when I have you watching after me?" Soonyoung teases.

 

Chan protests loudly, only to break out into a smile when Soonyoung pulls him in for another hug. He’s not surprised, just adapted to how physical Soonyoung is at times. Even Chan is prone to that, especially around the people he trusts and Soonyoung's always been one of them. It's a surprise to Soonyoung when Chan comes up to the same height as him, maybe even slightly taller. He's hit with a pang of something like nostalgia, even if he won’t openly admit it, sad that he's missed a big part of Chan's life, perhaps even more than that.

 

Smuggling was a full time job and Soonyoung never stayed long enough to grow roots, always too afraid of the idea of committing,  _ even if  _ to a place.

 

"Yorktown is a small place, you sure you can avoid getting it traced back to you?"

 

"I never deal with anything face to face, and it's easy to scrub and misdirect the servers. They're still very understaffed, you know?"

 

Soonyoung hums and opts to ruffle Chan's hair instead, ignoring his whines. He can pretend that for a moment, Chan is still part of the _ Hurricane _ 's tiny crew. Chan pushes Soonyoung away playfully, and Soonyoung knows he's going to miss Chan again when he’s off on his next job. He always does, regardless of where he is in the galaxy. Perhaps it's part of of the pack mentality, part of having always had Chan by his side prior to Yorktown's opening.

 

"You sure you don't want to join me again, kiddo?" He's asking. For something.

 

( _ For the huge maw of loneliness that's lodged under his skin, stubbornly unacknowledged. _ )

 

Chan puffs his cheeks out, smiling shyly. "I'd love to hyung, but I have Vernon now, you know?"

 

"Is he coming to visit?"

 

Sometimes, rarely, he experiences flashes of jealousy. Longing. Feeling like he's been left behind as the world moves along. These sentiments are  the most prominent with Chan, one part protective packmate and one part the fear of being left alone.

 

( _ Space is... consuming and yet, unfulfilling. _ )

 

Chan nods shyly. "He'll be here tomorrow, I think."

 

Soonyoung's path intersected with Hansol's in another universe before they intersected here. There, Hansol was part of his dance crew. The first time he met Hansol in Knowhere, he already knew what to expect from the boy. Soonyoung had known Hansol would be good and kind, thankful that the younger had liked Chan so much, had taken to him like a moth to flame. The jealousy never lasts long; the concern for Chan always drowning it out.

 

( _ The lonelier, more selfish part of Soonyoung allows it to simmer under his skin. _ )

 

Chan's apartment is decently sized, and stepping into it always feels like Soonyoung is back on Acllillon. It's full of plants and greenery, some of it native to their home planet; the floor replaced with synthetic dirt and actual grass. The windows are curtained with ivy, the light that filters in a comforting shade of green, plants spilling over just as much furniture. With his shoes off, and his toes digging into the dirt, he can almost hear the shouts of his pack members and the rush of adrenaline as they run through the forests.

 

"Vernon doesn't mind this?" Soonyoung gestures noncommittally around him.

 

Chan's smile is soft, mellow, reminiscent of sunshine and butter. "Yeah. He likes it actually, says this is way better than anything on Knowhere."

 

Soonyoung believes that: Knowhere with its neon lights and throngs of people, low-orbit skimmer craft always flying dangerously low. It was a good place to disappear from the galaxy, but a less than ideal place for anything else. Acllillon in comparison to that was paradise; it wasn't quite the  _ Eden _ of planets, but it was pretty high up.

 

“I also have running water. Hot,  _ running _ water, might I add,” Chan taunts, grinning wildly.

Soonyoung reaches out to thumb the markings on Chan’s face, so relieved at the thought of a proper shower he could cry.

 

“I fucking  _ hate _ sonic showers,” he declares.

 

Chan giggles. “Get to the shower then, hyung.”

 

After what Soonyoung thinks is an embarrassingly long shower, he finally feels like a functional Cyr again. Growing up bathing in rivers, playing in water and never having experienced  sonic showers had spoiled him rotten; some days, he was as bad as humans when they don't have their showers. Seeing dirt and grime being washed off is so much more rewarding when it swirls down the drain with water. There are clothes laid out for him when he's finally done, in the loose cotton fashion of his home planet. Soonyoung forgoes the shirt, after all, it’s Chan's home. Chan, who has seen Soonyoung in a lot more worse situations than  _ shirtless,  _ on their home planet and onboard the ship.

 

His nose picks up the smell of grilled meat and his stomach rumbles in response.

 

"There he is," Chan says drily. "The man singlehandedly intent on using up Yorktown's water supply."

 

Soonyoung has the decency to smile sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair. After dinner, it's easy to fall into a comfortable routine of talking to Chan and reassuring himself of the facts of his existence, that he hasn't _ yet _ lost his mind to the sly insanity only time is capable of. They repeat information at each other, and there's rarely a point where Soonyoung says something too far dated or too far ahead. It makes him feel saner than he believed he was.

 

They end up pushing the sofa against the wall, and Soonyoung falls asleep with Chan pressed against his back, his fingers digging into soil and the smell of Acllillon washing over him. With his eyes closed, he can pretend he's home, with the constellations they have watching over them and Cisyn's blessings ensuring their survival.

 

❇❇❇

 

At age 15, Kwon Soonyoung had protested against being absorbed into the reigning Alpha's pack, after his own Alpha's death. Most of his own pack had objected as well, and they were allowed to leave without a fight. Pack loyalties were delicate, especially if it concerned the Queen of Aclillon. At age 15, Kwon Soonyoung had come into age 2 years ago, and was privy to the secrets, as well as the powers members of their race possessed.

 

As a mark of respect and goodwill, he and other pack members were given the means to live off their home planet, with promises of no harm should they choose to return. Soonyoung had left with 3 things: his packmate Lee Chan, ten million credits and a ship, the <i>Hurricane</i>. The closest planet to Aclillon, 3 clicks away, had been a planet called Riaphus, where Stakakar Ogord, clan leader of the Ravagers, had found him, and where Chan and him had been inducted into a life of smuggling.

 

In front of him, the  _ Hurricane _ gleams, scratched so deeply in some places and paint barely touched in others. Its colours belong to no Ravager faction, and its name was known across various universes. In one universe, he was captain of the USS Hurricane. In another, the Hurricane wasn't his ship, but rather, his debut title track as an artist. He'd jumped between all the timelines of his life and regardless of where he'd been, the  _ Hurricane _ had been right by his side.

 

He's absorbed in polishing it, humming as he checks the external aspects of its engines. Vernon had finally docked in Yorktown this afternoon, and this was his way of giving Chan and him their privacy. If it was a way to ignore his omnipresent loneliness, then he wasn't the one who said that.

 

Soonyoung is humming along to a song, one that doesn’t exist in this universe, and that makes him sad. It was from the one where he was a singer, and apparently, the leader of a subsection that focused on choreography. It's while humming along to this song that his ears pick up the drag and shuffle of feet against the floor. He spins around, only to find a stranger of average height, wearing a hoodie pulled low, his facial features barely visible.

 

He curses his stupidity for leaving his phaser on the dashboard of the cockpit;the only weapon he could use within his reach is the screwdriver he’s holding.. A screwdriver which would be pretty useless if his hooded companion was well, anything besides human or Naradian. 

"I heard you're the best smuggler in the quadrant," the stranger says, pushing his hoodie back, tucking it behind his ears. Round ears, not pointy, which rules out a lot of races.

 

Soonyoung chooses not to say anything about the way he tucks his hoodie back; after all, he doesn't want to lose a paying customer. The action is both amusing and painfully familiar, that begs at his brain to remember. It's possible that Soonyoung may have met him while travelling. Alternatively, and what scares him more, is that this person could have been from a different timeline.

 

"Well," Soonyoung grins, the sharp points of his canines visible. "That depends on who's asking, and how much you're willing to pay. Also conditional to cargo, I suppose. I don't deal with children."

 

The stranger smiles, the smallest upturn of his lips and Soonyoung's brain hurts. This isn’t just some normal person he's met while smuggling, this is someone he's met while jumping through various space-time continuums. And the way his head is aching is as close as his body can do to warn him. It only left one conclusion: this person is either  _ important _ or  _ highly dangerous _ .

 

"Isn't not trading in children a Ravager code of conduct?" The brunette looks at Soonyoung's ship, and there's something about the way he takes in the details that has  him on edge, grip tightening around his screwdriver. "This isn't a Ravager ship even if it is a blockade runner, the colors don't match. I've also never met someone from your race, and I work with Federation diplomats."

 

If Soonyoung was on edge before, he was definitely panicking now. He shifts subtly into an attack stance, calculating his luck; with his biology, he could get away alive, unscathed even. He hasn't spent all his years trying to escape Federation law only to get caught now, by a fucking  _ diplomat _ , of all people. He's dodged the damn law cruisers and various droids but of course it takes a one  _ person _ to trip him up.

 

"I'd appreciate if you leave right now." Soonyoung's voice leaves no room for argument.

 

The brunette's expression twists into one of visible distress, pushing his hoodie off completely and running a hand through his hair. The distress has kicked his heartbeat up, and based on the hummingbird-wins franticness of his beating heart, Soonyoung  _ knows _ he’s human. If Soonyoung wasn't terrified of being caught, he'd be amazed at just how beautiful the man is. Even among races genetically engineered to appeal to any taste, he would stand out. 

 

"Sorry, I can't help but ask questions, it's in my nature," he sounds apologetic enough, but Soonyoung still doesn't trust him.

 

Soonyoung crosses his arms. "Your name. Your price. What you need smuggled."

 

"Jeon Wonwoo," Wonwoo squares his shoulders. "250000 credits."

 

Soonyoung's mouth drops open: that's a lot of credits. And then Wonwoo decides to drop to ultimate bomb.

 

"I need you to keep me out of Starfleet’s sights for a while."

 

"You're a fugitive?" Soonyoung spits out, in complete disbelief. "How does a diplomat, a  _ human _ diplomat nonetheless, end up a fugitive running from  _ Yorktown _ ?"

 

"How did you know I’m h— nevermind. Trade you the story, and 300000 credits."

 

"You must be a desperate man, Jeon Wonwoo."

 

Wonwoo's smile is grim and for the first time, Soonyoung notices just how  _ haggard _ he appears. "You have no idea."

 

Soonyoung's heart softens, just the  _ slightest _ bit. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Chan's in his head is telling him it's a big fucking mistake. Another voice that sounds like  Mingyu's, complete with his trusting smile, is telling him to take the unknown road and trust in his heart, cheesy as it sounds.

 

"Fine. We leave at dusk tomorrow," Soonyoung mutters.

 

"Dusk?" Wonwoo's blinking rapidly, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose.

 

"I have very few rules, Wonwoo. First, there's a deposit of one third our agreed price. Secondly, no questions."

 

Wonwoo chuckles at this, nodding. Soonyoung ignores his soft thanks and apology, as well as the promise to not delay him.

 

"If you're not here, I leave. Who sent you, by the way?"

 

There's a soft smile on Wonwoo's face when he says Chan's name, and for a moment, all the haggardness is stripped and a fondness for Chan shines through. Soonyoung feels guilty for doubting someone Chan evidently trusts greatly, but Wonwoo isn’t exactly innocent here. Wonwoo leaves and Soonyoung continues humming to himself, the mood in the hangar considerably happier, even if the circumstances of his new companion are _ slightly _ less than desirable. 

 

Kwon Soonyoung has never been good  with being left alone. 

 

❇❇❇

 

Wonwoo’s at the hangar when Soonyoung gets there.

 

“You haven’t been waiting here long, have you?” Soonyoung asks, suspicious.

 

Someone hanging around a hangar for hours would definitely be enough to raise suspicions.

 

“Nope,” Wonwoo rocks on his feet, holding a duffel bag.

Soonyoung grunts, unlocking the hangar. The _ Hurricane _ issues a series of beeps when he keys in the code before the ramp descends. With only the supplementary lights on, the interior of the ship is illuminated in ghostly greens and purples. By the time Soonyoung powers up the ship and returns to move a box of supplies in, Wonwoo’s still hovering at the door. 

 

“What are you waiting for?” Soonyoung scoffs. “Get in.”

 

“Hyung!” Chan yells. There’s a box in his arms and trudging next to him is a sleepy Vernon, chewing on something. 

 

Wonwoo hovers behind Soonyoung, Chan’s grin widening further when he spots Wonwoo.

 

“Got hyung to agree to take you, Wonwoo?” Behind him, Vernon is smiling at Soonyoung, apparently just out of bed.

“He’s paying me, of course I’d take him.” Soonyoung deadpans. 

 

Vernon laughs. “You’ve never let money stop you before, Soonyoung.”

 

Vernon would know.

 

Soonyoung bristles, and Chan hands him the box he’s carrying.

 

“Some plants from home, figured your sunroom could use them.”

 

Chan cuts over his protests with “Wonwoo will look over them, he loves plants.” 

 

Soonyoung turns to Wonwoo, who shrugs. “Sure.”

 

With their supplies in place, and Wonwoo armed with directions to the sunroom, Soonyoung turns to Chan and Vernon, lingering in the ship’s common space. Chan is the first to hug him, squeezing the breath out of Soonyoung. Vernon has no qualms joining in, grumbling about how he just got here and Soonyoung’s already leaving. 

 

“Hey now,” Soonyoung says, blinking back white hot emotion choking his throat. “You two gotta look after each other.”

 

“Sure thing, bro.” 

 

“You act as if all this time I haven’t been looking after Vernon,” Chan whines. Vernon raises a brow and Soonyoung laughs: he’s gonna miss his boys so much.

 

“Visit us soon, yeah?” Chan says, pinky wrapped around Soonyoung’s pinky.

 

Soonyoung pinches his cheeks. “Of course.” 

 

“Nepotism,” Vernon mutters, shaking his head. Soonyoung laughs and noogies Vernon.

 

They wave at each other until Soonyoung can no longer see them, raising the ramp and turning around to come face to face with Wonwoo.

 

“Uh,” Soonyoung says unintelligently. 

 

Wonwoo is  _ tall _ . Tall enough that Soonyoung feels intimidated, but also tall enough that he’s almost the perfect height for Soonyoung to kiss.  _ That _ is  _ not  _ the kind of realization Soonyoung  _ wants _ to have over someone who will be sharing the same living quarters as him for an indefinite amount of time. 

 

“We’re leaving now?” Wonwoo’s voice is a low rumble. 

 

“Yeah, after I give you a tour.”

 

“I checked the ship out while you were talking to Chan and his boyfriend,” Wonwoo confesses. “There was an empty room opposite the sunroom, so I left my things in there.”

 

“Oh yeah, that was supposed to be your room anyways. You might wanna stay there for takeoff, turbulence is rough getting out of Yorktown.” 

 

Wonwoo nods and they head in opposite directions, Wonwoo to his room and Soonyoung to the cockpit. The takeoff is smooth until Soonyoung has to navigate the tight airways between the hangar and his assigned exit port, other blockade runners and skimmers buzzing past. Once they’re out, Soonyoung sets course for Qiunus, the closest free port to Yorktown, 17 clicks away.

 

Soonyoung leaves his autopilot function on, his AI communicating in clipped Cyr. They’re settled in for a long, but relatively smooth flight. Ideally, Soonyoung should start planning out a route that will be safe for both him and Wonwoo, and he intends to avoid Knowhere as much as he can. Without a navigation chart, the basic list he comes up with in his head is quite extensive. 

 

❇❇❇

 

Instead of being in his room, Wonwoo is in the common space, poring over the PADDs he has spread across the coffee table. 

 

“We’re making a stop at Qiunus, I thought we could restock a little bit more there, have hot water.” Soonyoung says, as he enters the room.

 

Wonwoo looks up hesitantly. “Qiunus is still a free port, right?” 

 

Soonyoung scoffs, although not unkindly. “Buddy, I wouldn’t be going there if it wasn’t.” 

 

Wonwoo gives him the tightest lipped smile he’s ever seen and Soonyoung’s starting to think that if Wonwoo could fly, he’d have to worry about being thrown out of the airlock. Food, however, always makes things better so he opts to look for some, to make peace with Wonwoo. 

 

He ends up finding a basket of peaches and some Terran looking cookies: these should be good enough for Wonwoo. He tosses a peach at Wonwoo, who catches it despite the fumbling. Humans don’t have terribly shitty reflexes, after all. 

 

"You promised to tell me how a Federation diplomat becomes a fugitive."

 

Wonwoo chuckles, a self-deprecating note to it. "When diplomats stick their noses where they don't belong, this is what happens to you."

 

Soonyoung scoffs. “That’s barely an answer.” 

 

“I… research stuff then write about it,” Wonwoo says delicately.

 

"So you're like what, a space journalist?"

 

Wonwoo looks up at that, his expression guarded. Ah, so the job was a sore spot.

 

"If you think I'm judging you for what you're doing, please remember I'm a smuggler. I'm possibly a wanted one too, I'm not very sure about that." 

 

Wonwoo laughs at that, his head thrown up and nose scrunched up and not for the first time, Soonyoung is struck by just how handsome Wonwoo is. Handsome, human and incredibly  _ fragile _ .

 

"How can you be unsure of your record? Federation ports monitor all commercial ships that come in, and yours definitely falls into trading class cargo. Which means they check it even more. I'm also very sure your trading license expired."

 

Soonyoung shrugs, uncomfortable with the territory their conversation has stumbled into. One of the most prominent pieces of advice his people had given him before he left planet was that he should never,  _ ever _ divulge his gift.

 

"How did you know my license expired?" He dodges the bullet, but very narrowly, based on Wonwoo's carefully blank expression.

 

Wonwoo smirks. " _ That _ , was an observation of your character, more than anything else."

 

“You’re bullshitting.”

 

“No, I’m Jeon Wonwoo.” 

 

Soonyoung groans. “That was a _ terrible _ joke.”

 

The smile Wonwoo gives him is the closest to sincere that he’s seen yet. So maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Soonyoung won’t have to worry about being thrown out of airlock. 

 

Their stop at Qiunus is five days long, and uneventful. Soonyoung stocks up on food and weapons, trading off things he can do without. For the most part, he doesn’t really bump much into Wonwoo, who is just as busy meeting people. The few times they do interact are to get meals together in the tavern of the inn they’re staying in.

 

The only moment of significant importance from that trip had been a run in with Jeonghan, leader of a Ravager faction. Jeonghan had tried to scam every weapon Soonyoung had onboard his ship out of him, while his second in commands, Junhui and Jihoon watched in poorly concealed interest. Surprisingly, Wonwoo had been his saviour when he showed up. Soonyoung didn’t like the look in Jeonghan’s eyes when he saw Wonwoo; barely hidden mischief and the power of knowledge lumped into one.

 

“Be careful, Soonyoung,” Junhui had said as they left, Jihoon nodding curtly at him.

 

❇❇❇

 

They continue like that, drifting in and out of free ports, already having visited Ayter and Xeiliv. Every time they’re at a port, Wonwoo disappears for a few days, looking more haggard than ever. Soonyoung burns with unbridled curiosity, but Wonwoo’s like a hedgehog, retreating into himself whenever the questions become too invasive. Soonyoung supposes he should respect that, Wonwoo is a paying customer after all, but he’s always sucked at that kind of shit.

 

(Sucked at keeping his nose out of the business of others, and trying not to empathize with everyone he sees.)

 

On and off though, he gets memories and flashbacks of Wonwoo, projecting into timelines where Wonwoo is right next to him. A day after leaving Drautis, Wonwoo comments on Soonyoung inability to stay focused at times, and how he tends to space out. It sparks a silent fight between them, a cold bout of passive aggression that takes Soonyoung back to square one of dealing with his loneliness.

 

He and Wonwoo have a prickly relationship. They can be warm with each other one minute and be bickering about something petty the next. Despite everything, Wonwoo helps keep the loneliness at bay.

 

❇❇❇

 

They’d been floating around from freeport to freeport for almost 3 weeks when Soonyoung gets tired of Wonwoo ghosting every time they set port. It was frustrating, and eating into his hopes that Wonwoo wasn’t actually a terrible passenger. The solution comes to him clearly, accompanied by the sound of crashing waves. Where Soonyoung had in mind next, Wonwoo couldn’t ghost him. 

 

"Have you ever been to Xandar?" Soonyoung asks, keying the coordinates into the system.

 

Wonwoo hums, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his PADD blending in with the hum of the  _ Hurricanes' _ engine. Yet again a memory rises, hazy around the edges. This is not the first time that they've done this. The colors of space in the other memory is different, warmer, like they were navigating through a nebula.

 

"Soonyoung?" Wonwoo calls. "You're doing it again, spacing out. And no, I've never been to Xandar."

 

"Well, do you fancy a visit?"

 

"You have friends there?" Soonyoung thinks of Seokmin and Mingyu and smiles. 

 

“Yeah. They’re good people, not invasive at all. You’ll be alright.” Soonyoung hums. 

 

“Then sure, let’s go there.” Wonwoo shrugs, ambling off to the common area, probably.

 

Soonyoung switches on autopilot, punching warp for Xandar. 

 

❇❇❇

 

Located right by the Junixian ocean is Mingyu and Seokmin's home. There isn't a single house in the vicinity, and black sand stretches as far as the eye can see. The hum of the ship's engine quiets as it's powered down, the only sound now being the crash of the red waves against the beach. Soonyoung remembers his very first time visiting them, the weird mix of pets from Earth and Xandar accosting him at the door followed by an all too eager Mingyu. Wonwoo looks around in awe, and Soonyoung doesn't blame him. In all his life of travelling ( _ technicalities _ ), Soonyoung had never seen anything as beautiful as a Xandarian beach.

 

"Take it all in, Wonwoo." Soonyoung rings the doorbell, immediately triggering a cacophony of barks and what sounds suspiciously like something heavy crashing into the ground.

 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. "I think it's Mingyu," Soonyoung whispers.

 

The door is creaks open in front of them, Seokmin's face peering out from behind the door. Almost immediately, his face splits into a wide grin, throwing the door open further to embrace Soonyoung tightly.

 

Seokmin babbles out his niceties all in one go, barely pausing to breathe between his ‘I miss you’s’ and ‘you absolute rascal’, later joined by Mingyu too. Out of the corner of his eye, Soonyoung spots Wonwoo hanging back and realises this may  _ partially _ be a mistake; after all, Seokmin and Mingyu are _ his _ friends. 

 

Wonwoo shuffles, clearing his throat. Soonyoung pats his shoulder apologetically.

 

"This is Wonwoo, he's a friend travelling with me," Wonwoo nods, hands deep in the pocket of his hoodie.

 

"Friend, sure," Seokmin says amicably, hand outstretched for a handshake. 

 

Wonwoo shakes Seokmin’s hand brusquely, but Soonyoung doesn’t miss how fast he pieces together that handshaking is  _ human _ etiquette and therefore, Seokmin is most likely _ human _ . 

 

"Seok, didn't I introduce you to my parents as my friend once?" Mingyu asks. He’s wincing and Soonyoung smirks, confident the loud crashing noise they’d heard was Mingyu falling down.

 

Seokmin's smile is lazy and indulgent, a mix that has Soonyoung's breath catching. A long,  _ long _ time ago (it wasn't that long, his perception of time just  _ sucked _ ), Seokmin had been the one holding his hand. And he's not envious of Mingyu, he's happy for them both and awaiting the day he's invited to their wedding but sometimes, just  _ sometimes _ , Soonyoung remembers the possibilities that stretched out with Seokmin by his side.

 

_ (Seokmin was someone else whose life had been inextricably tangled with his through his various lives, in some places Seokmin had been right there beside him with Chan and Hansol.) _

 

Instead, Soonyoung splutters and Wonwoo blushes, the color high on his cheeks and the tips of his ear.

 

“Please don’t wait in our doorway,” Mingyu wheezes out, clutching his knee. 

 

Seokmin smiles apologetically, gesturing at them to enter. 

 

“Is he always smiling?” Wonwoo whispers into Soonyoung’s ear. Soonyoung stiffens from the proximity, and Wonwoo appears to realize his own mistake. 

 

“Sorry,” Wonwoo mutters hastily, pulling away.

 

“Yes,” Soonyoung replies. Wonwoo nods and Mingyu turns around with a questioning look, Soonyoung brushing it off with a wave of his hand.

 

The soft yellows and mint greens of the house lend Soonyoung the impression of another home. The only furniture in the hall are the many beanbags scattered around, and Soonyoung flops onto one of them inelegantly. Next to him, Wonwoo lowers himself into one carefully. The hall is suspiciously quiet, but Soonyoung knows Mingyu and Seokmin’s pets are here and he’s on high alert. Some of them hate him, by virtue of him smelling like nothing they recognize, but he’s visited enough that a bigger portion of their pets are used to him now.

 

“Where’s Helios?” Soonyoung asks. Helios is one of the five cats in the house, and he’s unofficially Seokmin’s, proving Seokmin is the only one with brains in the house. 

 

( _ “Liking cats and dogs is bi culture,” Seokmin insists. Behind him, Seungkwan is miming his tone. Soonyoung’s flat on floor, laughing, clothes clinging to his skin from sweating excessively. _ )

 

“The babies are in the room, but the cats are out, prowling around. I think I tripped over Calypso and Atlas earlier, so they’re probably sulking somewhere.”

 

“You think?” Soonyoung chuckles. 

 

Mingyu looks sheepish, and Seokmin just looks resignedly amused. Not like Seokmin has a  better sense of equilibrium; in fact, Soonyoung’s surprised that between the two of them, the house is standing. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo interrupts, frowning. “You don’t happen to have  _ dogs _ do you?” Wonwoo sounds positively terrified.

 

Mingyu, who really, is an oversized puppy himself, lights up. His ears perk up, tail subtly wagging behind him. 

 

“You like dogs, Wonwoo?” Mingyu’s excited. 

 

“I positively _ loathe _ dogs,” Wonwoo’s tone is dry and Mingyu visibly deflates, pouting. 

 

Seokmin sighs and smiles. “What did I tell you about this?”

“A person’s preference for dogs doesn’t indicate their preference for me.” Mingyu whispers, so softly that the only reason Soonyoung’s able to pick it up is because he has enhanced hearing. 

 

“That’s right,” Seokmin whispers back, just as soft. Soonyoung looks away when Seokmin leans in to kiss Mingyu’s forehead gently, Wonwoo just as fidgety next to him. 

 

Mingyu leaves with the promise to cook for them. Mingyu’s departure is accompanied by the loud footfall of paws as Helios emerges from the corner, looking taller and fatter than the last time Soonyoung had seen him, calves strong with muscle. Soonyoung coos, hands outstretched towards Helios.  

 

“That is _ not _ a cat,” Wonwoo recoils visibly. “That’s a fucking  _ lion cub _ .”

 

“He’s a Xandarian saber. Lion is rather inaccurate,” Soonyoung sniffles. “Descended from sabers, I’m  _ offended  _ you’re comparing me to something as unmajestic as a  _ lion _ .” 

 

“Oh no,” Wonwoo deadpans. “I have offended the great Kwon Soonyoung! He is going to wrestle me and murder me. Oh no, I am so scared.” Wonwoo continues.

 

Soonyoung smiles sweetly at Wonwoo. “I’ll throw you out of the airlock when you’re sleeping, Jeon.” 

 

Helios’s paws thud against the wooden flooring, stopping right in front of Soonyoung. He grins, Helios licking his face with a prickly tongue.

 

“You’re from Earth, Wonwoo?” Seokmin asks, scratching Helios behind the ear. He’s stretched out across Seokmin and Soonyoung’s laps, licking a paw. 

 

Wonwoo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

 

“That’s cool! I’m from Earth too, although, in all honesty, I cannot for the life of me remember how things are there,” Seokmin confesses.

 

“Ah,” Wonwoo smiles. “Did your parents move here with the colonies?” 

 

Seokmin laughs, then winces when there’s the sound of something crashing in the kitchen, followed by a less than reassuring yell from Mingyu. 

 

“You know your history well,” Seokmin says offhandedly. Wonwoo stiffens, and Soonyoung can tell he’s preparing himself to deliver an entire speech on why he’s not on Earth and on Xandar, a passenger on the ship of a known smuggler.

 

“Soonyoung,” Seokmin turns to him.

 

“Yeah?” Soonyoung running his fingers through Helios’s fur, and he misses his own saber back home. Hoshi was fierce, brilliant and too big to keep onboard the Hurricane, one of the few things  Soonyoung had cried over when they left Aclillon.  

 

“Gyu and I are thinking of getting another saber, and we were wondering if perhaps, you’d get us one from Aclillon? Helios gets… lonely.” 

 

Soonyoung hums, Helios’s ears twitching. Wonwoo’s still leaning as far back as he possibly can without falling out of his beanbag.

 

“I’ll see what I can do?” Soonyoung offers. Maybe they can take Hoshi; Soonyoung brightens at the idea of that.

 

Seokmin grins and pats his knees. 

 

“Hey,” Soonyoung calls Wonwoo. “Helios won’t bite, he’s extremely passive.” 

 

“That’s right!” Seokmin supplies. “Most of our cats take time to warm up to Mingyu, but in a day Helios was napping right next to Gyu.”

 

“I suppose you want me to  _ pet _ it?” Wonwoo asks sarcastically. 

 

Soonyoung and Seokmin nod. Surprisingly, Wonwoo stretches out a tentative hand. He freezes when Helios fixes his eyes on Wonwoo’s hand, but relaxes when it goes back to licking Soonyoung’s hand. Wonwoo pets Helios once, twice, then realizes that it’s as harmless as a cat, getting into it. 

 

Three cats run into the room, very much Terran and this makes Wonwoo perk up considerably. 

 

“ _ This _ is a cat,” he gestures, cooing at a Siamese. 

 

“Careful,” Mingyu jokes, juggling a tray. “Aphrodite is more aggressive than Helios.”

 

Wonwoo yelps when Aphrodite does, in fact, scratch him when he so much as tries to pet her. Soonyoung chuckles, and Wonwoo glares at him.

 

“If I didn’t need you, I’d throw you out of airlock,” Wonwoo threatens.

 

Soonyoung knows it's a front, but as Mingyu passes them warm rice bowls, heaped with some kind of steamed vegetable and strips of venison, Soonyoung doesn’t miss his worried glance at Seokmin. 

 

It’s intriguing to see the way Seokmin and Mingyu come together because as far as Soonyoung knows, Seokmin is slightly older. That doesn’t make him as fretful as Mingyu is, who just appears to flutter around every corner, fingers twisting with small smiles and piles of food. It’s not like Seokmin does  _ nothing _ , but the moment he’s next to Mingyu, all the pent up energy Mingyu has is channelled into giving Seokmin looks of pure adoration. 

 

Seokmin, in turn, soaks up the adoration like a sunflower, always close to Mingyu, laughing at everything Mingyu says or does. There are fond looks of exasperation, and always the subtle petting, the way they’re in sync with their movements. As Soonyoung eats his food, Seokmin keeps asking Wonwoo questions, none that are invasive, that makes Wonwoo sink further into his beanbag.

 

By the time they’re done, Helios is by Wonwoo’s feet. Soonyoung tries not to get grumpy over it. 

 

"Uh," Mingyu stammers.

 

Soonyoung raises his brows in question, exceedingly nervous when he spots Seokmin's telltale apologetic grin. The one that stretches across his face and shows all his teeth, the one that means he's fucked up  _ somewhat _ badly.

 

" _ So _ ," Seokmin begins. Next to Soonyoung, Wonwoo's starting to look visibly concerned too.

 

"We only have one guest room, because the babies use the other and seeing as all we have are beanbags... the two of you will have to share a bed?"

 

They glance at each other, and there's a challenge in Wonwoo's eye, something daring him to so much as try to sleep in the same bed as Wonwoo.

 

"They're gonna kill each other in bed, I knew it," Mingyu mutters, wringing his hand together.

 

Seokmin rubs his back reassuringly, whispering in Mingyu's ear.

 

❇❇❇

 

"Mingyu is a hybrid?" Wonwoo asks, closing the door to their quarters behind him.

 

"Shut up," Soonyoung hisses. "Or at least, whisper. They both have keen hearing."

 

Wonwoo flushes, color rising to his cheeks in embarrassment.

 

"Mingyu isn't a hybrid, by the way," Soonyoung says, taking off his socks. "He's... somewhat like me. I don't think his race is from this quadrant either, I think he's from the Delta quadrant."

 

"And Seokmin?"

 

"Seokmin's.... complicated. He is not entirely human. Mingyu thinks he's a demigod, fathered by a Celestial or a Norse god."

 

"And what are you?" Wonwoo prods.

 

Soonyoung glances up to meet his gaze, steady, inquisitive.

 

"I am what I am," he answers simply, tone even.

 

Wonwoo looks like he'd press for more details and Soonyoung doesn't blame him. In many ways, Wonwoo's life is in his hands.

 

“Do you have a side you prefer?” Soonyoung asks, jerking his head in the direction of the bed. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Get comfortable, I’m gonna take a shower first.”

 

“Fuck, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo grumbles. “Try not to finish the hot water, perhaps.”

 

Soonyoung laughs at that, and the moment is blanketed in an illusion of domesticity. It feels like there’s a white hot blade running between his eyes and Soonyoung falls to the floor, gasping.

 

_ Wonwoo is in bed, hair sticking up in different directions and bare shoulders visible. Next to him is a visibly younger Chan, cuddled up to Wonwoo. “Don’t finish the hot water, babe.” Wonwoo mumbles. _

 

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo sounds concerned, face swimming into view. “Should I call Seokmin?” 

 

It’s the clearest, sharpest memory of Wonwoo Soonyoung’s has ever seen from another timeline. It further cements the idea that Wonwoo isn’t a solitary person just passing through his life.  

 

“I’m fine, I just need that shower.” Soonyoung murmurs.

 

Wonwoo doesn’t look reassured, and it’s the first tendrils of a foreign feeling blooming in Soonyoung. This boy, with his expressive eyes, holds a lot more of Soonyoung than he thinks he does. 

 

Soonyoung stumbles to the bathroom down the hall, ignoring the quiet murmur of Mingyu and Seokmin’s voices, the whining of the dogs in their room, Wonwoo’s stuttered breaths. He’s hypersensitive to all the sights and sounds, senses kicked into a sixth gear. Sometimes, he gets acute memories. Most of the time, they suck, bringing more pain and confusion than anything else. 

 

His solution? Drown it all out with the water at its hottest setting. 

 

When he returns to the room, Wonwoo’s already asleep on the right side of the bed, sheets tangled around his legs. One of the extra pillows is on the middle of the bed, a clear divider. It brings a smile to Soonyoung’s face, who climbs into the left side. 

 

Beds always feel weird because he grew up sleeping on the ground, like sinking into a marshmallow. This bed is no less different, but he falls asleep relatively fast. Perhaps, it has something to do with Wonwoo being in the same space, and his subconscious taking him back to nights on Aclillon when he and his packmates used to sleep huddled together, intimate. A little piece of home on a foreign turf.

 

❇❇❇

 

Intimacy works in strange ways, pulling people to gravitate to each other without the people themselves realizing it. The first morning, Soonyoung wakes up to find Wonwoo curled into a fetal position, back to him, the pillow between them untouched.

 

Something changes between the first and the last day they spend on Xandar. Seokmin and Mingyu had taken them to town a few times, where they’d tried Xandarian seafood. Soonyoung had purchased spare parts for his ship, Wonwoo at his side. Ever since Soonyoung’s attack, Wonwoo stayed close to him, and it became easier for them to converse. Wonwoo even partially gets over his fear of dogs, but he refuses to approach Remus, Mingyu’s wolf. The thinly veiled insults persist, much to Mingyu’s exasperation and Seokmin’s amusement, but at least, they came from a friendlier place now. 

 

Intimacy works in strange ways, and on their last morning together, Soonyoung wakes up to find Wonwoo curled towards him, hair sticking up wildly. On the pillow that acts as their divider lie their hands, curled towards each other, like they’d been holding hands. Soonyoung yanks his hand back as if he’d been burned, staring at the spot where it was just moments ago. 

 

They leave Xandar five hours later, freezers stocked with meals Mingyu promises will keep for three months, and Seokmin eliciting at least four different promises of return from both Wonwoo and Soonyoung. Helios is with them when they say goodbye, and Soonyoung crouches to kiss his snout.

 

“I’m going to try to get you a friend, buddy. You and I know how lonely we get, yeah?” Helios nuzzles Soonyoung’s head and licks Wonwoo’s palm. 

 

As they take off, they spot Mingyu and Seokmin waving furiously. Soonyoung looks at them until their figures turn into tiny specks and he’s jumping out of Xandar’s exit port. 

 

“I like your friends,” Wonwoo says, before he disappears into his room. 

 

 

❇❇❇

 

They don’t really have a set route, but Soonyoung’s considering Moclillia. It was right next to Aclillon, and he could get Seungkwan, an old pack mate, to bring Hoshi there. He hears Wonwoo clearing his throat and he stops tapping his fingers on the control board, turning around to face Wonwoo.

 

"I know this sounds really stupid," Wonwoo begins. "But could you teach me how to jockey this?"

 

Soonyoung grins, waving Wonwoo over. The last time he'd taught someone to jockey, Vernon had been high off Calassian marijuana and Chan was equally, if not  _ more _ blazed. They crash landed on a small moon, Vernon in disbelief when Soonyoung had told him wasn't actually flying level through gasps of laughter. Until today, it remains one of Soonyoung's favourite memories, Chan's loud laughter filling the space of the cockpit alongside Vernon's, Soonyoung holding his tummy.

 

He can see it so clearly for a moment, he feels as if he's projected into the past.  Maybe he has. Wonwoo's grip on his shoulder centers him, reminds him he's not actually drifting between multiple bodies.

 

Soonyoung gets out of his seat, smiling at the way Wonwoo's fingers flutter hesitantly over the console. It took him 1 year to really learn the ins and outs of the Hurricane.

 

"I'm not going to crash this, am I?" Wonwoo licks his lips.

 

Soonyoung grins, reaching over to flip pilot assist on.

 

"Since we're in what's mostly empty space, your first lesson is really learning how to fly this thing level, with the jock-stick.” Soonyoung’s never been good with words, preferring touch to teach. 

 

He guides Wonwoo’s hands gently, calloused palms against soft hands, the ship jerking every once in awhile. For the bigger, better part of it however, the ride is smooth and Soonyoung’s pleasantly surprised to find that flying comes instinctively to Wonwoo. 

 

Wonwoo manages to glide the ship steadily, steadily enough that Soonyoung feels confident when he turns off the autopilot and assisted flying switches. Wonwoo fumbles for a moment, perceptive enough to feel that there's the  _ slightest _ of drag in the craft now, that the weight distribution has shifted somewhat. It's smooth for a first timer, and Soonyoung feels pride blooming in him.

 

"Do you wanna try out the warp core?"

 

Wonwoo nods enthusiastically, his motion jerking the plane the slightest bit. Soonyoung feels dizzy with the joy, almost, brain fuzzily merging another memory of Wonwoo with the one currently seated, underlined with a thrumming of  _ fondness, love, pride _ . Where Wonwoo is concerned, his emotions are constant, even across the universe.

 

Soonyoung rarely uses warp to travel, preferring instead to do it on his own time across the various jump gates. His clients were rarely the type to set deadlines for him, aware of the delicate process it took to get some things across. Somehow, alcohol was always affected if it was transported through warp, especially those distilled naturally from fruits.

 

The ship hums loudly and Soonyoung feels a familiar pull behind his navel, then the ship lurches forward, the galaxy rushing past them in a blur. Their course is set for Romulus, and Soonyoung enjoys the sight of the stars blending together into a rush of pure light, propelling the ship forward.

 

"You know," Wonwoo licks his lips. "I've always wanted to do this."

 

Soonyoung hums, unfamiliar with the sentiment in Wonwoo's eyes: a hunger for something out of reach.

 

"Why didn't you become a pilot then?" He leans over Wonwoo, adjusting his grip on the jock-stick.

 

"Shit eyesight." Wonwoo deadpans.

 

Soonyoung laughs good naturedly. This close, he can feel the warmth Wonwoo is emanating, craves the form of touch and contact he's been starved off since seeing Chan. Sure, they'd shared a bed in Xandar but the pillow between them had stayed firmly in place, Wonwoo curled up in fetal position.

 

"Father I crave your cheddar," Soonyoung murmurs. Half to diffuse the intensity of Wonwoo's gaze, half because his brain just reminds him of the phrase.

 

Wonwoo barks out an incredulous laugh at that, turning around to glance at Soonyoung. "How do you know that?"

 

There's a moment suspended in time. Jeon Wonwoo, 31 in human years, is fully taking in Kwon Soonyoung's profile. They're close enough that if Soonyoung turned, their lips would brush together. In fact, Wonwoo's mouth is so close to Soonyoung's cheek that he can feel the stutters of his exhales. Instead, Soonyoung stares resolutely forward.

 

"Vernon."

 

"Vernon  _ really _ loves his memes."

 

Soonyoung laughs. That's Vernon, alright.

 

When they retire for the night, Wonwoo closing the door to his quarters with a soft thank you and goodnight, Soonyoung is  kept awake by the phantom feeling of Wonwoo's breath against his skin. He's half in his own mind and half in another universe, one where he's sitting on Wonwoo's lap, bodies warm. In front of them, the horizon stretches out into infinity, the familiar dashboard of the Hurricane winking at him.

 

❇❇❇

 

Soonyoung hums as he heads for the kitchen, only to stop at the common space. The screen is playing a movie, Vuni, with standard subtitles at the bottom of it. Wonwoo seems pretty comfortable in the sofa, a bowl of some weird fruit Soonyoung doesn't recognize or remember having on board the ship, laughing at the screen every once in awhile. He goes to the kitchen, grabs water and Angoran plums for himself.

 

"Mind if I join you?" 

 

Wonwoo shakes his head and Soonyoung settles down next to him, tugging the quilt Wonwoo has to cover his own legs despite the small noise of protest. The elder simply ruffles Wonwoo's hair, dropping his plums into the bowl, comfortably settling his head against his bony shoulder. There's no protest at this and deep down, Soonyoung knows that this isn't regular smuggler behaviour. Not like Ravagers have rules or etiquette on how to treat the person you're smuggling across borders, so _ technically _ , Soonyoung is doing nothing  _ wrong _ .

 

The movie is a romantic comedy, and Soonyoung's somewhat surprised that it was Wonwoo's first pick.

 

"Do you understand Vuni?" he whispers, lips brushing the shell of Wonwoo's ear. Wonwoo shivers.

 

Intimate, so very intimate: a reminder of what lines exist and what don't.

 

"A little," Wonwoo murmurs back.

 

Besides standard and Cyrrian, Soonyoung understands three other languages. The Terran dialect of Hangul, a close relative of Cyr; what he remembers from Joshua's lessons of Vulcan, despite the fact that his tongue was too stiff for it and Japanese, which had stopped being constrained to Earth alone.

 

"How many languages do you speak?"

 

Wonwoo hums noncommitally. "Twelve, maybe thirteen?"

 

"Maybe?"

 

Wonwoo chuckles, shifts around. Soonyoung's head sits more comfortably on his shoulder now. It's nice. It's better than nice in fact, it starts up a warmth bubbling in the pit of Soonyoung's stomach, extending to his fingertips. A warmth that reminds him of flickering bonfires and the summer festival, the taste of alcohol distilled from barley and playful fights between the pack cubs. He hasn't felt that in a long,  _ long _ time.

 

"You drift away a lot," Wonwoo observes. His chewing makes Soonyoung's head bob up and down, but it's a small price.

 

Soonyoung bites his lip, hesitant. Hisses when his fang cuts him.

 

"I find it hard to stay rooted to one spot. I have to move a lot, you know how I do that in the pilot's chair. Also, you didn't explain the  _ maybe _ thirteen to me."

 

"I learnt Vulcan at what _ I _ considered a young age, but what Vulcans did not. They were right mostly, at one point, I just  _ couldn't _ wrap my tongue around the vowels."

 

"My accent got fucked, but I never lost the ability to understand it, you know?"

 

Soonyoung chuckles. "Same problem here."

 

There's a lull in conversation after that, but it's nothing awkward. In fact, it's  _ comfortable _ . For Soonyoung, it means a lot, especially when he chooses to fill every breathing moment with movement and conversation. Wonwoo feels comfortable: the rockiness of their relationship before Xandar replaced with understanding and warmth.

 

They fall asleep like that.  _ Soonyoung _ falls asleep like that, the soft vowels of Vuni washing over him accompanied by Wonwoo's breathing, the loud thudding of his very _ human  _ heart.  When he comes to, Wonwoo's face is illuminated by the static of the screen, their legs tangled together. The sight of Soonyoung's hand resting on the soft skin of Wonwoo's stomach has Soonyoung blushing for some reason,  _ tangible  _ compared to interlocked fingers on a pillow..

 

He's falling for Wonwoo, with all the speed of a hurtling comet.

 

❇❇❇

 

Soonyoung exclaims triumphantly, pulling out a silver decanter that feels cool to the touch, the liquid inside sloshing.

 

"No way," Wonwoo murmurs, taking off his glasses to wipe them on the hem of his shirt, and put them on again.

 

"Is that Florassian—"

 

"Florassian ale, yes. All the fun with none of the hangover. The cross fading effect is legendary, or so I've heard."

 

"We're getting cross-faded too?" Wonwoo sounds amused, settling cross legged on the beanbag.

 

"Uh... no we're not, I think I'm out of that stuff. I have a lot of liquor though?" Soonyoung offers.

 

Wonwoo chuckles. "That's fine Soon,"

 

Soon. _Soon_. **_Soon_**. He blinks away memories of that nickname from three different worlds, all of them sounding like Wonwoo was the one who had uttered it.

 

Soonyoung digs around in the cupboard for glasses and ice, setting them on the table with a clink. He pours a healthy amount of liquor into both glasses, the drink shifting colors between a pale pink and a pale blue, fizzing away.

 

Wonwoo downs his glass with a grimace, burping after he sets it down. Soonyoung stares at him in surprise, bursting out into giggles. The television screen flickers to life, and Soonyoung finds Wonwoo's pulled up a Terran comedy movie, something unnecessarily heterosexual.

 

"Why is Terran media so fixed on being straight all the time?" Soonyoung asks.

 

Wonwoo shakes his head, smiling. "I'm gay, Soonyoung, I'm the worst person to ask."

 

"Huh," Soonyoung mumbles.

 

The sound of the television washes over them as they keep refilling the glasses, content to be quiet. Wonwoo breaks the silence around his fourth glass, cheeks flushed and eyes shining. He looks beautiful, unbearably so. Soonyoung wants to kiss him, unable to forget their last night on Xandar or the time he’d woken up with his hand splayed across Wonwoo’s tummy.

 

"I haven't been entirely honest with you," Wonwoo hiccups.

 

Soonyoung stirs his drink absentmindedly with his pinkie, sipping at it.

 

"I don't expect you to be," Soonyoung says, as truthfully as he can.

 

Sure, he wants to know, but Wonwoo doesn't owe him anything.

 

"The reason I'm running from Starfleet is because I'm looking into Admiral Marcus," Wonwoo begins.

 

"I was working on a project with something and had to translate a lot of Klingon for him, except I realised most of the phrases were phrases of surrender, and the likes. So I started digging around and found a trail of recently fired translators, engineers, diplomats, all who'd been working with Admiral Marcus when they got fired."

 

Soonyoung lowers down the volume of the television, focused on Wonwoo struggling to find the words.

 

"Somehow, he realised that I'd been using my access to dig around in the archives, including the recent expenses of Starfleet. So he got me fired, and my access to all my sources were revoked before I could build up anything significantly credible. There were rumours floating around Yorktown though, that the admiral was building a war station."

 

Soonyoung inhales sharply through his teeth. "Go on,"

 

Wonwoo takes another sip from the cup. "You know how I disappear whenever we dock at free ports?"

 

Soonyoung nods.

 

"I've been in contact with some of the engineers and—” Wonwoo's voice cracks, he takes a bigger sip of his drink. "There's an actual war station, Soon. We're trying to get the coordinates of it, but it's out there. He's going to war against the Klingons, and he's willing to put the entirety of Starfleet and the Federation at risk."

 

_ "Fuck _ ," Soonyoung mutters, his glass clattering noisily as it slips from his grip.

 

" _ Why _ ?"

 

Wonwoo shrugs dejectedly. "He's always felt we were sitting ducks, going about the peace business.”

 

Wonwoo reaches for the bottle and pours himself another glass. The drink doesn't fluctuate this time: it's sky blue, and Soonyoung remembers something vague about Florassian ale and feelings. Pink for hope, blue for despair. Together: tranquil.

 

"What are you going to do with this information?" Soonyoung asks, licking his lips.

 

"Publish it," Wonwoo says morosely. "It just has to  _ get out _ ."

 

He drinks up noisily, leaning back into his bean bag, eyelids fluttering shut. Soonyoung's torn between the knowledge of what Wonwoo's offloaded onto him and the fact that Jeon Wonwoo is a lightweight, and that's endearing. Wonwoo's eyes stay shut, and his breathing evens out.

 

Soonyoung totters to his feet and picks Wonwoo up easily, who despite his height, doesn't weigh much. Somehow, he manages to carry Wonwoo to his room without dropping him. Sleep in his marshmallow soft bed doesn't come easy at all despite feeling pleasantly buzzed. When it does consume him, it's in fitful bouts, with fever dreams of huge war stations on the tail of the Hurricane

 

❇❇❇

 

It’s been two days since they got drunk and Wonwoo had poured out his story. Instead of Wonwoo tensing up whenever Soonyoung approaches him first, he’s more receptive now, greeting Soonyoung with warm smiles and ribbed insults. Soonyoung’s accepted that Wonwoo can be downright  _ childish _ with his affection at times.

 

"Hey Soonyoung?" Wonwoo calls, sounding distressed.

 

Soonyoung hums in response, turning around. Wonwoo's standing at the door of the cockpit, the PADD in his hand casting an almost ghostly glow on his face,  washing him out.

 

"If I gave you a specific set of coordinates, will you be able to take me there?" Wonwoo's biting his lip, hesitant.

 

He knows Wonwoo's fears, knows how he feels like he's imposing on Soonyoung. Knows that if Wonwoo was asking Soonyoung to take him somewhere  _ specific _ , there must have been an equally important reason behind it. So instead of asking Wonwoo questions, Soonyoung simply grins.

 

"Where to?"

 

When Wonwoo reads him the coordinates, Soonyoung's brow furrows in confusion. He knows his coordinates well enough, and that reads like absolute empty space.

 

"Are you sure you mean to go there, and not to Jupiter, or something?"

 

"Yeah," Wonwoo says hesitantly. "Yeah."

 

Soonyoung keys in the coordinates, frowning again. One of the wormholes the Federation uses to travel is located nearby, on the other side of Jupiter, but otherwise, Soonyoung can't think of anything else there that'll be of interest.

 

_ Unless _ .

 

"Wonwoo," Soonyoung begins cautiously. "Does this have anything to do with the admiral?"

 

Wonwoo's hesitation answers Soonyoung's question and there's a shift of emotion in the room; everything becomes sharper in Soonyoung's senses.

 

"We'll be there in 6 clicks," Soonyoung says instead.

 

The tenseness appears to drain out of Wonwoo, his shoulders slumping down. It doesn't take away the still apparent distress, but by not pushing at whatever limits Wonwoo may or may not have created, Soonyoung makes things easier for them.

 

Small things like this is what gets to Soonyoung in his weakest moments. He's got animal genes in him after all, engineered for aggression and dominance. The same genes that mellow, fizzle out almost where Wonwoo's concerned. Like a peacock engaging in a courtship display, except Soonyoung is mostly humanoid and not a rather vain bird. The Hurricane hums quietly as they pass through warp, occasionally entering the airspace of other planets.

 

"Sit next to me," Soonyoung calls when he notices Wonwoo still standing at the door.

 

Wonwoo falls back into the seat carelessly, apparently more exhausted than Soonyoung thought he was.

 

They're quiet, and Soonyoung's assuaged by the scent of Wonwoo's cologne from another memory. There's also an impression of warmth against his back. So, not this Wonwoo then. That same, niggling sense of deja vu that's always persistent with Wonwoo. The same cycle of questions: _ who is Wonwoo? What is Wonwoo to him? Why is Wonwoo important? _

 

"You know how I told you the admiral was rumoured to be building a war station, right?" Wonwoo begins quietly. They're two clicks from the coordinates.

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

"You must be fucking  _ kidding _ me," Soonyoung swears.

 

"Wish I was."

 

1 click away.

 

Wonwoo's chuckle is self deprecating and Soonyoung _ hates  _ that, wants to change it; remembers the Wonwoo at the edge of Klingon space, the Wonwoo on Xandarian beaches. His vision blurs out for a moment, as another Wonwoo is superimposed over the one he's seeing: there are screams surrounding them, bright twinkling lights, excitement thrumming through their veins, Wonwoo with the biggest smile on his face, nose scrunched up.

 

Soonyoung's fingers fly over the control panel, pushing the ship's shields to full capacity and priming the weapons system. They won't be able to survive much if a war station locks onto them, but the  _ Hurricane _ isn't going down without a fight. Both of them are tense as the ship shudders, jumping out of warp. They're somewhere off to the side of one of Jupiter's moons, and whoever Wonwoo's informant was, they were smart.

 

The gravitational field of the moon masks their presence, but right ahead of them, what was  _ supposed _ to be empty space was very much _ not  _ empty space. The war station is bigger than any Soonyoung has seen before, even more intimidating than those at the borders of Klingon space. Stations like that  _ definitely _ held more than a few destroyers.

 

"Are you getting pictures of this?" Soonyoung asks, throat dry.

 

The younger makes a noise of assent, and they observe as even more ships fly towards the station.

 

"Why here, of all places?" Wonwoo asks, sounding frustrated.

 

Soonyoung knows the answer.

 

"On the other side of Jupiter, there's a wormhole. It makes travelling to Klingon airspace almost child's play, and it augments warp power. It's obvious what the admiral plans on executing here, isn't it?"

 

"Fuck."

 

Soonyoung agrees. On one hand, the Federation has a shitstorm coming at them, if the intention of this station truly is to launch an attack against the Klingons.. One the other, it seems reckless, bordering on  _ desperate _ , so  _ unlike  _ what Soonyoung recognized of the Starfleet that there was  _ no _ way this was something the Federation as a whole had authorized

 

"I have one last request." Wonwoo's not looking at Soonyoung.

 

"Anything."  He means it. Maybe even more than he _ believes _ he does.

 

"Take me back to Earth."

 

_ Numbness _ . It's a foreign concept to Soonyoung, who has always spent his life engaging in behaviour that  _ never _ crossed paths with that feeling. And yet, here he is, numb to what Wonwoo is asking for him. His senses take everything in for him instead; Jeon Wonwoo, illuminated by starlight, eyes shadowed and head down, the tone of his voice wistful, regretful.  _ Final _ . His fingers move on autopilot, the AI repeating Earth after him in confirmation.

 

10 clicks. Soonyoung only had 10 clicks left with Wonwoo, and no time to figure out the mess of emotions that flooded him everything he so much as _ looked  _ at Wonwoo.

 

"Where are we going?"

 

"Amsterdam."

 

"Ah, so that's where you learnt how to smoke." Soonyoung's numb, and so he cracks a joke. Like always.

 

Wonwoo cracks the smallest of smiles and that alone is enough for Soonyoung's heart to melt, enough for now.

 

"You know the moment you use your passport, Starfleet will know you're back on Earth, right?"

 

Wonwoo shrugs. "It's a risk I'm willing to take to protect the lives of the innocent.

 

"I don't know how to thank you," Wonwoo confesses, voice low. He still won't look at Soonyoung.

 

Soonyoung dismisses it with a wave of his hand. "There's no need to, it's just business."

 

Business.  _ Business _ . Because taking a paying customer to your best friend's home is business. Because staying up at night, giggling under the influence of Florassian ale is business. Because teaching him how to jockey a blockade runner was business. Falling asleep on the sofa, feet tangled together and screen showing an old Vuni movie on the edge of Klingon space was business.

 

Wonwoo knows it's a lie.

 

"I'll transfer the rest of the credits to you soon...young."

 

Soonyoung cracks a laugh at that, swats Wonwoo on the shoulder, the two of them giggling.  Even by Wonwoo's standards, that was a terrible joke. And Soonyoung is already beginning to miss the somewhat dry puns Wonwoo lets slip every once in awhile.

 

Soonyoung muffles a gasp when Wonwoo pulls him into a hug, his own arms instinctively wrapping around Wonwoo's waist. It makes him feel like he's somehow bigger than Wonwoo, even if Wonwoo is taller. And Wonwoo smells like all things comfortable and familiar, like old school ink and paper that Soonyoung takes a deep breath of it, committing the smell to memory.

 

When they pull back, there's the slightest of distance between them, one of Wonwoo's hands resting on his shoulder. If Soonyoung were brave enough, it would be the perfect distance for him to lean in and kiss Wonwoo. The hand on Soonyoung's shoulder moves to cup his jaw, Wonwoo's thumb brushing the soft skin of his cheek. Soonyoung's eyes flutter shut, leaning into the touch; this is their last moment of intimacy.

 

Wonwoo makes a noise in his throat, almost like he's about to say something, and then he pulls away, taking his warmth and his scent with him. Soonyoung's a few steps behind him as he walks to the Hurricane's transporter pad. He watches Wonwoo dissolve in a flurry of particles, smiling as he waves at Soonyoung.

 

❇❇❇

 

The cockpit of the Hurricane is warm, familiar, but on every surface, there's a reminder that Wonwoo had been here. That for some time, across Cisyn knows how many space jumps, Jeon Wonwoo had been as much of an occupant of the Hurricane as he was. There are  books on the dashboard, and a broken pair of glasses. There are remnants of the wrappers of human sweets, ones Soonyoung had obtained from various freeports for Wonwoo. 

 

More importantly, in his head, superimposed over what he’s seeing, is a different image altogether. One that speaks more about what Wonwoo means to him in some distant past, or the distant future. His heart aches alongside his head, for this is the curse his race carries. Humans had marvelled them, the Vulcans had studied them, Klingons had hunted them and here Soonyoung was, a vulnerable Cyr, who couldn't remember a past or future that had Wonwoo in it despite what his brain was trying to communicate.

 

" _ Stop it _ ," he says out loud.

 

He didn't become the best smuggler of the Alpha Quadrant catching feelings. Soonyoung primes the navigation system, the beeps echoing back silently.

 

You see the thing about Soonyoung is he's a social person. Even if he ignored his social conditioning, he is genetically conditioned to stay in a pack, to uphold hierarchies. And while he's been fine with smuggling on his own all this time, he has never felt truly alone. On Vulcan, he has Joshua. In Knowhere, he has Vernon. On Earth, there is Seungcheol and on Xandar, Seokmin and Mingyu. Chan is almost always in Yorktown, helping him out every time. Yet Wonwoo's absence creeps up on him, as if he had filled up the holes Soonyoung was unaware of, the loss of his presence felt as acutely as a missing limb.

 

So it's safe to say that his life has officially been split into two: before Wonwoo and after Wonwoo. Or rather, before Wonwoo prime, and after Wonwoo prime. His own timelines are confusing him, and maybe it's time Soonyoung returns to Aclillon, or to Yorktown, where Chan could help him make sense of his timeline.

 

The navigation system beeps back a set of commands at him, and for some reason, Soonyoung feels like someone just ran a white hot blade through his skull. He collapses to the floor, gasping as numerous memories converge on him all at once, blending together to form  fuzzy, superimposed pictures.

 

Of all fucking times, now has to be one of the rare instances of him getting a flashback. He presses his palms to his eyes, hoping it'll alleviate the pain but it only seems to make everything rush past fast, fast, _ faster _ in a blur of sight, sound, touch, smell,  _ too much _ and all at once.

 

_ Wonwoo laughs and it's deep and throaty and his nose is scrunched and his head is thrown back. They're playing Cards of Humanity on the PADD, against Seokmin and Mingyu and Vernon, and someone had chosen the  _ Pee Pee Poo Poo _ man as a black card. _

 

Soonyoung's head aches even more, enough for him to slam on the autopilot function, falling off his pilot's chair, rocking on the ground.

 

_ Wonwoo's voice rumbles against his back and he smells familiar, like a promise of a dream, so acutely remembered that it elicits an involuntary inhale from Soonyoung. _

 

The musty air on the floor smells nothing like Wonwoo. It attacks his enhanced senses, making Soonyoung gag, desperate to choke out what feels like mustard gas ripping the insides of his throat.

 

_ The waves crash at their feet. _ Soonyoung recognizes this as Xandar. _ Seokmin and Mingyu are walking in front of them, hands intertwined. Wonwoo is next to him, and this is the most relaxed Soonyoung has seen him,free almost . _

 

_ "We need to go to these coordinates, exactly, Soonyoung." Wonwoo's voice is urgent, he looks harried, the dark circles under his eyes the most prominent Soonyoung has ever seen them. Soonyoung agrees easily and he feels a wave of emotion from the Soonyoung of another universe, something that implies worlds about the _ **_worlds_ ** _ Soonyoung would follow Wonwoo too. It's a location slightly off Jupiter, far away enough that they won't be lured in by the gravity, but close enough that asteroids and junk fields would be a concern. What they see is confusing and more importantly, concerning. _

 

Soonyoung remembers the war station all too well and everything Wonwoo confessed to him under the influence of alcohol.  _ Alcohol _ . A burning sensation rumbles in his stomach, threatens to claw its way up his oesophagus, makes him writhe in agony.

 

_ They're laughing again, somewhere outside. The sun that illuminates the surface is definitely that of Earth though, Soonyoung is sure of that much. "Nonu-yah," Soonyoung whines, head settling on Wonwoo's shoulder. "Hmm?" Wonwoo hums. Wonwoo is playing with Soonyoung's hands, smiling contently. Soonyoung would die for that smile. For that boy.  _

 

_ Maybe in this universe, too. _

 

_ "In every universe, I promise I'll find you." _

 

Everything descends onto him at once, the impact as if someone whacked the back of his head with an iron bar. What little control he has left over his body disintegrates and he retches, hands clawing at the floor.

 

_ They're in Wonwoo's apartment, and there's an undercurrent of negative emotion. Betrayal is the most prominent one, followed by _ **_aching, twanging_ ** _ longing. _

 

_ Soonyoung's always had a temper. It's the tiger in him. _

 

_ "Soonyoung, I need you to leave." Wonwoo sounds especially disturbed. From what Soonyoung can observe of his table, it's a mess of photographs and notebooks and several different PADDs stacked haphazardly. Wonwoo looks far worse of than his desk; hair sticking up in different directions, the buttons of his shirt done wrong, his dark circles looking almost permanent  at this point. _

 

At this point, Soonyoung's in over his head, gasping for breath and muscles locked down. In front of him, the dust motes dance tauntingly, in tandem with the frantic, building crescendo of panic that's lingering from the Soonyoung of a different timeline. It's the last one,  _ possibly _ .  _ Hopefully _ ; he doesn’t know if he can take another. Soonyoung lets it take him.

 

_ He's numb with shock, his PADD on the floor. It's unmistakably Wonwoo on the headlines though, _ "Diplomat Turned Traitor". _ Fear sets in Soonyoung, wrapping its gleeful, cold hands around his heart, squeezing so tight he drops to his knees. Why wasn't he with Wonwoo? _

 

❇❇❇

 

When Soonyoung comes to, he's broken out in a cold sweat, heart racing unnecessarily fast. The flashbacks always left behind after effects, the worst of it being the lingering nausea and emotions of his alternate timeline. He's shaky and struggling to get to his feet, but the only thing he can think of is getting to Wonwoo as soon as he possibly can and getting him away from whoever it was that he was looking into.

 

He's drowning, gasping as he gets on his feet, head swimming, heart racing, so very overwhelmed. Guilt is always a difficult emotion to come to, because of the self preserving nature of humanity in general. And Soonyoung's overwhelmed by _ twice  _ the amount of guilt, knowing that he was the one who'd taken Wonwoo to the war station, confirming Wonwoo's suspicions, perhaps even strengthening Wonwoo's resolve to write about it and expose it to the entire system.

 

He could see the events playing out clearly in his mind, how the same thing would occur in this timeline, how stupid, stubborn,  _ brave  _ Wonwoo would try to expose a corrupt system.

 

Soonyoung stumbles against the control panel. "Plot course for reentry to Earth," he rasps out.

 

His guilt is that of two people, yet so is his fear and perhaps more importantly, the love he feels for Jeon Wonwoo, slowly blossoming here and in full bloom somewhere else.

 

❇❇❇

 

"Soonyoung?" Wonwoo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The action makes his heart ache even more; there's nothing he wants to do more than to reach out and kiss Wonwoo over and over and over again.

 

"I'm not sure when, but a task force gathered by the Admiral will come bursting into your office. They will burn it down, and you will be charged in the United Courts for treason and assisting Klingons, because that's the last place your PADD pinged," Soonyoung swallows, squaring his shoulders. This is the hard part.

 

"I know this because in my secondary timeline, or third, I met you. I helped you. And I don't know what happened, but I do know I promised you something. I promised you in every universe, I'll find you."

 

"Timelines?" Wonwoo questions. And somehow, through some ghostly memories, he recognizes the expression Wonwoo wears.

 

It is fear. Fear, and confusion and more importantly, relief.

 

"I'm a Cyr, Wonwoo. Part of the few remaining packs left in this quadrant, while most of our people are in the Delta Quadrant."

 

"I guessed you were Cyrrian," Wonwoo says quietly, staring down at his fingers. "That, or a particularly rare hybrid species."

 

Soonyoung would ask _ how _ , but he knows he doesn't need to. It's _ Wonwoo _ , after all, who pieces things together with quiet determination before presenting the bigger picture. And while the elder isn't comfortable divulging it, he didn't do much to hide it on board the  _ Hurricane _ . Plants that were native to very specific planets. Manuals in Cyr, and the accent of his ship’s AI. Wonwoo would have seen past all of it.

 

"Huh," Soonyoung shrugs. He’s relieved that Wonwoo had put it together himself. "Now that that's been sorted out, we need to get you out here. Take whatever you think you may need. Especially your findings."

 

Wonwoo nods, and they shuffle around his apartment packing things up, carefully stowing away various PADDs. Soonyoung can't help but think it's a pretty place, the sort of place that speaks about fresh starts. The walls are a pale shade of green, all the furniture a light wood. There are several terrariums strewn about, and on the kitchen counter, a variant of fire-breathing tentacula. Jeon Wonwoo was a curious man, and being in his home makes Soonyoung feel like there's so many pieces to a puzzle whose picture he's only beginning to see.

 

"Cool tentacula," Soonyoung comments, when Wonwoo reemerges from his room. He's got a backpack and a duffel bag, glasses perched on his nose.

 

"Gift from," Wonwoo's nose scrunches up in thought. "I think it was from a Qaelan ambassador."

 

Qaelans were known to give potentially dangerous livestock as gifts. In fact, Soonyoung had helped  _ smuggle _ potentially dangerous livestock for them before. And it's ironic that the tentacula sitting there, waving its branches innocently, may have been something Soonyoung could have transported. They were illegal on Earth, which meant that in order for them to grow, healthy as they did  in it’s terrarium, Wonwoo had dabbled with the black market.

 

Another piece is slotted into his puzzle, another dimension to add to Wonwoo’s character. More importantly, however, it’s almost like the cosmos was setting up the stage to lead him to something bigger, to show Soonyoung just how he was  _ somehow  _ tied to Wonwoo, even in a different universe.

 

"Let's leave then," Soonyoung reaches out for Wonwoo's bag, takes in Wonwoo's profile when he lingers to look at his apartment. It looks pristine.

 

Bile rises in his throat from the stark contrast of a memory Soonyoung has. The door swings shut behind Wonwoo, and he releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Each step away from the building is a step away from the fate of Wonwoo somewhere else. He breaks out into a brisk jog, even more eager to get back to the  _ Hurricane. _ Wonwoo raises his eyebrows, but says nothing, keeping pace with Soonyoung.

 

"Even if you know how to escape all this," Wonwoo pants out, jogging alongside him. The somberness of the moment is broken. "What are we going to do with my findings? Who'd trust a smuggler and a fired diplomat turned journalist?"

 

"First of all, stop putting yourself down. Second, I know a person."

 

"Mind telling me who this is?"

 

"Captain James Tiberius Kirk."

 

"Of the  _ U.S.S Enterprise _ ?" Wonwoo sounds impressed. Impressed, and extremely cynical.

Soonyoung glances at him;  _ definitely _ cynical.

 

"He owes me one," Soonyoung defends himself. "I got him a very rare whiskey."

 

"Well then, ever resourceful Kwon Soonyoung, lead the way," Wonwoo says.

 

Soonyoung can't help himself; he laughs at Wonwoo's deadpan expression in spite of the situation. He switches the duffel bag to his left hand, reaching over to grab Wonwoo's hand with his right, squeezing it gently.

 

"Trust me."

 

Wonwoo answering smile is soft, tired around the edges.  _ Knowing _ . "I trust you alright."

 

There's something bigger here, that no one want to address. Not explicitly, not with the threat hanging above their head. Because putting it into words for Soonyoung means he has to address that it's not a solitary plant winding its way around his ribcages and promising sweet nothings. It's the whole  _ jungles _ of his home planet.

 

❇❇❇

 

It hadn't been difficult to find Jim Kirk. After all, Starfleet's youngest captain was someone highly celebrated by the Federation, and every planet the  _ Enterprise _ docked at was something that made itself known fast. And if the  _ Enterprise _ was moored to the space station, then Jim was definitely on Earth. And if Jim were definitely on Earth, then the best place to find him would be at The Typical Star.

 

"So you're saying this PADD contains information that proves Admiral Marcus is planning to start a war?" Jim Kirk asks, waving the PADD about.

 

Soonyoung remembers a very different Jim, several different Jims in fact; all of them characterized by the headstrong way they rush into everything, and the way they all love so possessively. And with every Jim, just like this one, Commander Spock and Dr McCoy are present.

 

"Captain, with all due respect—” Spock begins, only for Jim to cut him off.

 

"What did I tell you about calling me captain off deck?"

 

" _ Jim _ ," Spock says drily. "I'm not sure we can trust the word of a Cyr. My people have studied them, we are well aware that all the travelling they do confuses them, and that their current conscience simply _ cannot  _ differentiate the timelines."

 

Soonyoung bristles at this, Wonwoo's tight grip on his wrist the only thing holding him back. He bares his fangs at Spock, who merely looks unphased. Soonyoung knows it would be unwise to challenge a Vulcan in most circumstances but he is  _ Cy _ r, his genes mixed with that of sabers.

 

"Spock, let me ask you this," Jim begins. His grin is wide, infectious, and there's a twinkle mischief in his eyes. Maybe blind trust too. 

 

"If it's true Soonyoung can project into multiple timelines, universes, whatever, and therefore access a universe we can't see, then isn't there a possibility that out there, in a different universe, Admiral Marcus is carrying out this plan?"

 

Jim raises a finger when Spock attempts to interrupt.

 

"What I'm trying to say here is that if Admiral Marcus is planning this in another universe, what's to say he's not also planning it here?"

 

"Jim—” Spock protests.

 

"Wonwoo, right? I'll get this to Admiral Pike. He'll know what to do. In the meantime, you have to hide."

 

"Hide?" Wonwoo protests, expression of despair.

 

He's no longer holding Soonyoung's hand, instead playing with the hem of his shirt almost anxiously. Soonyoung remembers this Wonwoo, the Wonwoo that first boarded his ship. A fugitive, haunted by a then unnamed power. It had taken their visit to Xandar for Wonwoo to lose that haunted look, and the night they spent finishing a bottle of Florassian ale for him to look human. Their visit to the war station had put that look right back on his face.

 

"Captain Kirk, with respect, just check out the coordinates of that war station," Soonyoung bites his lip. "I didn't believe Wonwoo until I saw it myself."

 

Next to Jim, Spock's expression is stony. They're most likely on shore leave, but Jim is as predictable as Soonyoung. Which means that the crew of the Enterprise is definitely,  _ most likely _ going to spend some quality time orbiting Jupiter.

 

"We'll try our best, Soonyoung," Jim says gently. It's their cue to leave.

 

Next to him, Spock is stiff, his expression radiating displeasure and grudging acquiescence. Soonyoung wants to celebrate. Almost.

 

"Keep Wonwoo safe, we may need him." Spock calls out at their retreating backs.

 

Soonyoung yells a reply.

 

❇❇❇

 

"So I was thinking," Soonyoung says, not meeting Wonwoo's eyes. The idea had been hanging over his head the moment he'd seen Wonwoo's expression at Jim's words, and it only makes more sense to go through with it.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Would you like to tour the galaxy with me? I can navigate through a nebula  you know? You can write about it. You’ll be safe, out of the way of harm."

 

This is as close as Kwon Soonyoung gets to putting down roots. Maybe closer still, seeing as in a different timeline, Wonwoo had been so deeply rooted around his ribs, chest aching with every breath he took.

 

Wonwoo's lips quirk in a smile, and the roots around his ribcage burrow further into bone and marrow. He's known Wonwoo long enough now, long enough to see that smile for what it is. Joy, mischief,  _ teasing _ —

 

"Is this your way of asking me out, Kwon Soonyoung?"

 

Soonyoung scoffs. "Not many people can say their date is taking them through a nebula, you know?"

 

Wonwoo's smile softens and it's less mischief, more buttery, indulgent,  _ giving _ .  _ Expectant _ .

 

“But yeah,” Soonyoung stammers shyly. “It can be a date, if you want it to be.”

 

( _ “This year, I don’t want to cry,” Wonwoo says. Soonyoung’s ears hurt from the thousands of people screaming their names, but he looks on Wonwoo with pride. Wonwoo wears the same smile. _ )

 

The truth is, Soonyoung feels awkward. Like he'd blurted out a premature confession and he's been left on hold for a reply, at arm's length, like all the days on board the Hurricane were memories from a past life. And perhaps they were, if he was struggling so much to differentiate reality from memory.

 

"I'd love to tour the nebula with you, Kwon Soonyoung."

 

Behind Wonwoo, the San Francisco bay glimmers, softening Wonwoo's edges. The Academy is behind them, and Soonyoung has shitty timing with confessions. Soonyoung lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, roots loosening, smile widening. He approaches Wonwoo tentatively, his fingers sliding against the skin of Wonwoo’s jaw first. It’s not entirely smooth, marred with stubble and old acne scars, but it is soft. 

 

First it is Wonwoo’s jaw, then he brushes his thumbs against the high planes of his cheekbones. Wonwoo’s eyes flutter shut, hair golden in the dying sun, the same smile still playing on his lips. Soonyoung feels like he’s ingested butterflies, beating tiny-soft against his insides.

 

He kisses Wonwoo — 

 

— And it’s like everything slides into place, his brain playing a loop of Wonwoo,  _ Wonwoo, Wonwoo _ ; across different universes, in this one, in  _ past _ , in _ future _ . A lifetime with Wonwoo stretches out in front of him and behind him and Soonyoung knows that this,  _ this _ is what they talk about during the Harvest Festival. This is the anchor that Cisyn promises,  _ anchor _ ,  _ soulmate _ , lifelines tangled together through the cosmos. It all comes together in that moment.

 

Soonyoung gasps against Wonwoo’s mouth, Wonwoo’s lips moving against his own. He feels connected to the many versions of himself but very much present.

 

“Stop thinking so much,” Wonwoo murmurs when they break apart.

 

It’s almost like his brain has been for that command; the flashes just melt away and the only person Soonyoung is aware of is Wonwoo in his arms, whose smile at this point is trying to rival the sun. It could even compete against Aclillon’s sun, and still lose.

 

Wonwoo kisses him again, fingers gripping Soonyoung’s waist firmly, like he has no plans on letting go. Soonyoung can live with that. Wonwoo’s teeth nicks Soonyoung’s lips when they come together against at a particularly awkward angle and Soonyoung whimpers, Wonwoo pulling him closer. 

 

“We should return to the ship,” Soonyoung says. The sun has almost completely disappeared from the horizon, and Wonwoo’s lips are swollen. 

 

❇❇❇

 

When the news of Admiral Marcus's arrest reaches them, Soonyoung is half sprawled across Wonwoo's bony frame, grumbling about the fact that Wonwoo is just skin stretched over bone.

 

"You _ chose _ skin stretched over bone," Wonwoo ribs back, lazily scratching Soonyoung's scalp.

 

There's the beginning rumbles of a purr building in Soonyoung's chest, whining when Wonwoo abruptly stops scratching him. The comm device that they'd used for the purpose of talking to Captain Kirk, and Captain Kirk alone, lights up. It had been months since the fateful day at San Francisco, the progress speeding up perceptibly when Captain Kirk had brought Admiral Pike and Admiral Paris into the investigation.

 

"Pick it up," Soonyoung urges, sitting up straight.

 

"Wonwoo," Jim's voice crackles from the tinny speaker. "We arrested Admiral Marcus today, and Admiral Paris is overseeing the dismantling of the war station."

 

"That's good news," Wonwoo says. Soonyoung sees the tension that had been omnipresent in the months travelling bleed away, another layer of emotion peeled back for Wonwoo.

 

Soonyoung had avoided any and all Federation territory, preferring to dock at outlying planets and several times, in Dominion space. He was aware Wonwoo missed his home though, and he himself craved the presence of his friends. This far out in space, everything sounded tinny. The last time he'd spoken to Seokmin, he'd sounded worried sick. Chan wasn't any less better, Vernon taking the brunt of the younger's frustration.

 

"As a gift from Starfleet," They hear the sound of someone clearing their throat pointedly, and Soonyoung can easily imagine the expression on Spock's face.

 

"Sorry," Jim sounds amused. "A gift from me, really and our  _ brilliant _ Mr. Spock, you're free to return to Federation territory. And if Soonyoung  _ ever _ had a criminal record before, not that he  _ does _ , it's gone now."

 

That gets Soonyoung's attention.

 

"Thank you," They both say, low, grateful.

 

Jim's laugh is warm over the receiver. "It's what we do here at Starfleet. Come back soon so we can talk about your travels over a glass of beer, if I'm still on Earth."

 

The call ends with a click and Soonyoung and Wonwoo spend a moment basking in the silence.

 

"Would you—” Soonyoung stutters. "Would you like to go back to Earth?"

 

Wonwoo's gaze is heavy,  _ searching _ . Soonyoung's heart seizes; it was easy up here, where only the two of them existed. It was easy to exchange lighthearted banter and to switch chores, taking turns flying or playing rounds of card games, hours spent just lying in bed and watching the flow of warp.

 

There's the week they'd spent in Knowhere, getting cross-faded to Abbysium and back, and then a short trip to Acllillon. Visiting the Dominion markets, the juices of fresh fruit running down their chins. All the memories swarm Soonyoung's mind, a tempest of emotions. And Wonwoo had the most power over this, unaware that he was holding Soonyoung's hopes and fears in his hands.

 

Wonwoo smiles and Soonyoung is taken back to San Francisco.

 

"I want to travel space," Wonwoo says. "I want to write a book about it. And I want to do it with you, for the rest of my life."

 

Soonyoung grins wildly, climbing onto Wonwoo's lap to kiss him, slow and deep.

 

❇❇❇

 

He exhales shakily, fingers trembling over the switches in the control panel. The course is set for Xandar, where Seokmin and Mingyu and Vernon and Chan are waiting for them. Soonyoung stands behind Wonwoo, chin digging into his shoulder.

 

"Ready to fly, space boy?"

 

Wonwoo grins, pushing up the warp thrusters.

 

"With you by my side, _ always _ , tiger."

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This universe is presumably separate from both the original Star Trek series as well as the recent Alternate Original Series, or the Kelvin timeline. Soonyoung also exists in multiple timelines, as his way of breaking the continuum is more of projecting from one universe into his physical body in another universe. Knowhere and Xandar are both adopted from Guardians of the Galaxy, also, for the sake of this story, located in the Alpha quadrant, a section of the Milky Way galaxy. Knowhere is an outlier and Xandar is part of the United Federation of Planets. Soonyoung’s species, Cyr, is pronounced like the word ‘seer’ and his home planet is named Aclillon, their primary god being the mother goddess Cisyn. It’s also a heavily matriarchal society that places importance on packs, led by the strongest Alpha, decided by combat once every 15 years. Thank you so much for reading this, and if you have any other questions about the world in general, feel free to send them in!!


End file.
